Of Love & Lawnmowers
by ijnfleetadmiral
Summary: Being in Atlantic City makes people do crazy things. Like, for example, when a WWE Diva wakes up married to one of her fans...
1. Chapter 1: A Dream Come True

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing WWE-related, or the George Strait song in Chapter One, only the original characters of Jason, Tim, Anna, and all aspects of their lives. So don't sue; you'd be wasting your money because I have none.

**Of Love & Lawnmowers**

**Summary:** Being in Atlantic City makes people do crazy things. Like, for example, when a WWE Diva wakes up married to one of her fans...

**Pairings:** Trish Stratus / OC

**Chapter One: A Dream Come True! For One of Them, Anyways...**

Jason Haybert awoke slowly, glancing at his watch and swearing softly when he realized it was 8:30 AM and his business was scheduled to open in thirty minutes. Another worry arose when his hungover brain registered that he wasn't in his bedroom at home, but instead in a expensive motel suite. Then he remembered he was on vacation, so he relaxed again.

He brought his left hand up and raked it down the left side of his face, pausing when he felt something metallic against his skin. He pulled his hand away to see a simple gold band on his left ring finger.

_Ohh shit..._

Movement next to his right made him glance nervously in that direction, and his trepidation wasn't eased at all when he saw long dirty-blonde hair spread out over the pillows.

_Odd; usually I go for brunettes..._

He mentally smacked himself as the mysterious blonde sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her stomach, turning her face towards him.

Jason nearly had heart failure...the woman in bed with him was none other than 7-time Women's Champion Trish Stratus. Babe of the Year Trish Stratus. Hotter-than-any-_Playboy_-_Penthouse_-or-_Hustler_-centerfold-in-history Trish Stratus.

A quick glance at Trish's left hand revealed a ring that matched Jason's, and the sight of the marriage license on the nightstand to his left caused the events of the previous night to come flooding back to him. A dazed smile came over his face.

_Ok, I can die happy now._

Quietly - so as not to disturb his gorgeous new wife - he slipped out of bed, gathered his clothes, and headed for the shower. As he started his usual morning routine, he couldn't help but sing as he washed.

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Trish slowly came awake. A hangover the size of the Grand Canyon followed her into consciousness.

_Ugh...I'm never drinking again..._

Then she remembered the reason she'd had that much to drink the previous night. Her divorce from Ron had become final...her ex-husband was now free to marry the other woman he'd fallen so hard and left her in the dust for. So she'd met up with her friends in the WWE and gone out to a club with them. But everything after the fifth shot of tequila was a blur.

Trish groaned and collapsed back into the pillows, but a glint of gold on her hand caught her eye. She blearily raised her head and finally saw the gold ring on her left ring finger.

_What is __that__ doing there?_

She sat up - finally registering she wasn't wearing her usual pajamas - and saw the piece of paper on the nightstand. Picking it up, her eyes widened in horror when she saw it confirmed that Patricia Anne Stratigias was now married to Jason Mosby Haybert.

_Oh, my God...._

At that, the rest of last night's events came back to her...along with the realization that certain parts of her body were fairly sore. The former Women's Champion blushed embarrassedly as she remembered those events in particular.

Then the sound of the shower running cut through her thoughts, along with a voice singing. _Pretty good singing, too_, Trish thought.

"_If you're ridin' on a gravy train, instead of walkin' down Lover's Lane. You can't make head, boy...'cause you're goin' the wrong way, boy. You gotta get a little honey...it's better than money. If you ain't lovin'...then you ain't livin'."_

Trish listened and thought as the impromptu concert continued for three more verses before the shower shut off. About five minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and she saw her new husband for the first time.

Jason was thin, yet muscular, with long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail. The bathroom light glinted off - Trish was surprised to note - quite a few strands of white hair, even though her new husband couldn't have been more than thirty-five years old.

Jason walked out of the bathroom and stopped dead when he saw Trish was awake, leaning back against the headboard with the blankets covering a body that Jason now knew was about ten trillion times hotter than any fantasy his best friend Tim Bradfield had ever concocted inside that humorously warped mind of his.

"Oh, good...you're awake," he smiled at her. "I was hoping you would be when I came out...I dunno how I would've woken you up; I didn't want to have my lights knocked out if I tried to kiss you good morning, or have my wrist broken if I shook your shoulder."

Despite the awkward situation, Trish couldn't help but giggle.

"So..." she trailed off awkwardly, "we're married."

Jason nodded. "According to the Sunny Skies Wedding Chapel here in Atlantic City we are."

Trish grabbed her cell phone off the second nightstand. "I'm gonna call my lawyer and have him draw up divorce papers, ok?"

"Who said anything about a divorce?" Jason asked, confused.

Trish looked up at him with an attractive - incredibly attractive, in Jason's opinion - flush spreading across her face, neck, and collarbones.

"Well, we obviously can't get an annullment," she muttered softly, causing her new husband to grin.

She was in the midst of scrolling through her phone book to find her lawyer's number when Jason said something that caused her to stop in mid-scroll.

"Who said I wanted a divorce?"


	2. Chapter 2: Lawnmower Man Makes Good

**Chapter Two: Lawnmower Man Makes Good**

Trish's gaze whipped to Jason's when he said that.

"What do you mean by that?"

Her new husband grinned. "Just what I said. It's not every day a guy wakes up to find himself married to a woman who's gorgeous beyond belief. I'd like to see if we can't make it work between us."

"We don't even know each other!" Trish exclaimed.

Jason nodded. "I know, but that's easily fixed. Have dinner with me tonight and we'll get to know each other."

Trish shook her head in disbelief. "My divorce from my first husband was just finalized yesterday," she murmured to herself. "Now I have to go through the same process all over again...I can't believe this is happening."

She turned back to Jason. "I'm sorry, Jason...I'm sure you're a great guy, but I'm just not ready for another relationship, let alone a second marriage."

To Trish's surprise, Jason merely smiled and nodded.

"I can respect that." He walked over to the bed and extended his hand to Trish. Surprised, the former Women's Champion took it, and was stunned when - instead of shaking her hand - Jason kissed it instead.

"See you in court, Beautiful."

"Court?" Trish looked at him questioningly as he headed for the door.

Jason turned back to her and grinned. "Of course...you didn't think wasn't going to contest this, did you?"

With that, he blew her a kiss and was gone. Trish stared off into space for a few minutes as that bit of information sank in and then rolled over and screamed her frustration into the pillows.

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Jason walked into his hotel room three floors down and opened his cell phone, dialing a familiar number as he sat down on the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

_"What?"_ came the groggy voice of Tim Bradfield, his lawyer and best friend.

"You're needed in Atlantic City," Jason replied.

_"Ok, are you in jail? Because if you are, I'm pissed that you got yourself in trouble without me."_

Jason rolled his eyes. "No, I need you here for divorce court. I got drunk and accidentally got married."

Five minutes later, Jason was still listening to Tim laughing his ass off.

"Are you quite through yet?"

_"Yeah,"_ his friend gasped. _"Aw, man...this is priceless! Hahahaha!"_

Jason sighed. "Are you coming here or not?"

_"Yeah,"_ came the response, _"I'll grab Riley and be there in three hours...later."_

"Don't bring Riley," Jason replied, but only the dial tone responded.

Jason swore and tossed his cell phone on the nightstand, wearily rubbing his hands over his face. He was never going to hear the end of this.

WWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWEWWE

Trish paced her suite nervously. The long shower hadn't helped her jumbled thoughts sort out any, but at least the coffee she'd ordered from room service had helped her hangover.

Finally, the knock she was waiting for came. She hurried to the door and opened it, admitting three of her closest friends in the WWE.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Candice Michelle asked as Trish shut the door behind them.

The seven-time Women's Champ simply handed the former _Playboy_ cover girl the marriage license.

"That's what's wrong! Urgh, I can't believe I was so stupid!"

Her friends stared at the piece of paper in surprise.

"So where is he? I wanna meet him!" Maria Kanellis looked over at Trish and smiled happily.

Barbara Blank grinned at her friend. "Yeah, I wanna meet him too...where is he?"

"I sent him back to his own room after telling him I wanted a divorce," Trish muttered.

"What'd he say?" Candice asked.

"He said he respected my decision, but that he was going to contest it."

"What? Why?" were the exclamations from her friends.

Trish sighed. "I think his reason was because - and I quote - 'It's not every day a guy wakes up to find himself married to a woman who's gorgeous beyond belief.'"

"Aww..." her friends chorused, obviously won over, and Trish rolled her eyes.

"What's he look like?" Kelly asked, and Trish shrugged.

"He's all right, I guess...long brown hair, good build, and a nice smile."

Further conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Trish went to see who it was, finding a bellboy standing in the hallway holding a package.

"This came for you, Mrs. Haybert," he stated courteously, before walking away without looking for a tip.

Trish shut the door and opened the package, groaning when she saw a wedding photo. It wasn't one of her best photographic moments: she was actually licking her husband's right cheek while he smiled drunkenly at the camera.

"Here's my new hubby," she muttered, handing the picture to Candice and flopping down on the couch, burying her face into the throw pillows and groaning miserably.

An appreciative whistle from Candice caused Trish to look over at her.

"Damn, honey...why do you wanna divorce that?"

"Lemme see!" Kelly leaned over to take a look, with Maria on Candice's other side.

"Yeeow!" Kelly exclaimed. "Let me know when the divorce is final; I'll take him!"

"Wow...if I wasn't with John, you'd have some competition, Kel," Maria put in, causing all three Divas to giggle, even though they all knew Kelly was happily involved with Chris Jericho.

"I'm never gonna be home...what kind of marriage is that gonna be?" Trish asked her friends. "I'm gonna be traveling all the time."

"What kind of job did you find?" Kelly asked, causing Trish to get up off the couch and walk over to her luggage with a grin on her face. She pulled out a stack of papers and walked back over to them.

"Guess who's back!" she laughed, displaying a newly-signed contract.

There was a moment of silence before excited squeals resounded throughout the room, and for a while the only conversation was about Trish's return.

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When the knock came on the door to Jason's room, he had to force himself to remain calm. He opened the door to reveal his best friend since his first day of Kindergarten, Tim Bradfield.

"Hiiidey ho!" Bradfield greeted, doing his imitation of _South Park_'s Mr. Hankey.

"Get in here," Jason snarled, causing Tim to start laughing again. He groaned as his younger sister followed his best friend into the room.

"Damn, Jas," Riley Haybert smirked at her older brother. "This sounds like something I'd do...get roaring drunk and marry somebody I barely know."

"No, it doesn't," Jason replied. "You're too smart to do something like this."

Riley rolled her eyes. "You know my philosophy, Jas: 'Work hard...party harder'."

Jason nodded. He knew his sister was right. Twenty-five-year-old Riley Janelle 'R.J.' Haybert was a certified genius, although one couldn't tell by looking at her. She wore heavy black liner around her emerald green eyes, and her black hair was cut short, usually spiked, and had streaks of neon blue, green, and purple through it. Her clothes were almost-always very revealing, thereby drawing many an admirer, but no one dared try touching her, for she was a fourth-degree black belt in martial arts.

Despite having finished college with a Ph.D in Engineering at the age of nineteen, she went to work for her brother, owner and manager of Happy Mower Small Engine Repair. Their parents had been livid that Riley hadn't gotten a well-paying job in the field of her degree - and even more so that she hadn't even bothered to come meet the Harvard-bound son of one of their dearest friends, who'd just returned from a private boarding school for the summer - but Riley had basically told them where to stick their plans - her foul temper and even fouler language was another source of great distress for their parents - and gone off with her brother.

Jason was also an embarrassment for George and Evelyn Haybert; he'd joined the U.S. Air Force at the age of seventeen, tricking his father into signing the permission form and then leaving for San Antonio the next day. Now, at the age of thirty-four, he was in the Air Force Reserves at the rank of Major - having spent eleven years on active duty, including his time in Officer Candidate School - and upon leaving active service, he'd gotten his small engine repair certificate. A year later he'd opened his own business: Happy Mower Small Engine Repair, and said business was thriving, especially since he didn't have to pay rent, as his best friend owned the strip mall his business was a part of.

Timothy Bradfield had gone to law school mainly because he loved money. He and his parents had moved to town from Brooklyn, New York when he was five, and he'd inheirited Harry and Jackie Bradfield's distinctive Brooklyn accent. He loved to party hard, had an extremely-warped sense of humor, and was seemingly addicted to adult films and websites. When a distant great-aunt died, she named Tim as her sole benefactor, which meant Jason's best friend was now one of the wealthiest people in the area. He owned several properties, including three houses - one of which he lived in himself, and another he gave to his parents - and the strip mall Jason's business was located in. Upon taking over as landlord, Tim proudly informed Jason his business was now rent-free, and opened his own small law office in the rental space next door. Jason, Tim, and Riley spent most of their time together, and all three were hardcore fans of the WWE.

Jason was brought back to the present by Tim flopping down on the spare bed in the room.

"Ya know, you're lucky my other clients are so understanding...I'm in the middle of a very important case right now."

Riley snorted.

"Oh, bullshit...Jason's the only client you have, and you spend most of your time either hanging out in his shop or downloading porn on your office computer."

Tim glowered at her.

"At least I don't have a naughty toy I named after my favorite WWE superstar!"

"Fuck you!" Riley yelled, turning beet-red.

"Ok, that's bordering on obsessive, Ri," Jason informed his sister, who rolled her eyes at her brother.

"Whatever...it's not like I mail him naked pictures of myself or anything."

"Yet," Tim muttered, and Jason had to grab Riley before she dove at him, her green eyes blazing with anger.

"Can we get back to the reason I called you here?" Jason asked loudly, over Riley's phrases-that'd-make-Marines-blush language and Tim's raucous laughter.

Tim seemed to remember why he was there, and he grinned at Jason.

"Yeah, we can...lemme see that marriage license so I can laugh until I piss myself."

Jason sighed, went over to the entertainment center, and picked up the license.

"You two are not going to believe the person I married...this was like a one-in-ten-gazillion coincidence."

"Gimme," his lawyer ordered, and scanned the document.

"All right, lemme see here: 'This certifies that Jason Mosby Haybert and Patricia Anne Stratigias have agreed - ' HOLY SHIT!"

Tim gaped at the document before Riley snatched it out of his hands and looked at it herself. She then turned stunned eyes to her older brother.

"You married Trish Stratus?!"

Tim's revelation was - in his eyes - even more profound.

"Hold the phone...you called me down here for divorce court, so an annullment's out of the question. You SLEPT with Trish Stratus?!"

"On top of things as usual, Tim," Riley commented sarcastically, "the fact that your best friend fucked the hottest WWE Diva of all time is the point you need to concentrate on...not on the fact that he got married in a drunken haze and is about to become mired in a divorce."

"Hey Riley, can you do me a huge favor and blow me?" Tim shot back, causing Jason's sister to reach across the mattress and slap him hard upside the head. As Tim was still gaping at Jason, he didn't see it coming, so he was surprised by the blow to the head enough to fall off the bed and crack his head against the nightstand on the way down.

"Ah, fuck!" the lawyer shouted, causing Riley to laugh.

"Don't worry if you hurt your head, Tim...it's not like there's a brain up there to damage."

Tim glowered at her and flipped her the bird before turning back to Jason and hugging him.

"I gotta tell you...I am so proud of you, man! You nailed the seven-time Women's Champ! You, my friend, are the king!"

Jason rolled his eyes. "So I got laid...it's not a parade event."

Riley snorted derisively. "You're too modest, Jas. Hell, even I'd sleep with Trish Stratus!"

"I'd pay good money to see that," Tim volunteered his unwanted opinion, causing Jason to roll his eyes as a happy little smile came over his best friend's face.

Riley scoffed. "Yeah, Tim...paying for sex is the only time you get lucky. Well," she paused, "unless you count all those times with the Palm Twins."

"That's it!" Tim stood up and was about to jump onto the bed and launch himself at the nineteen-year-old girl - apparently forgetting she was an incredibly-skilled martial artist and could kick his ass on a dime - but Jason grabbed his arm and glared at Riley.

"Come on, you two...enough! We can't do anything about this until we go to court, so let's head downstairs to the casino...how's that sound?"

Tim grinned at him, apparently forgetting all about trying to pummel Riley. "Lead on, Major."

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An hour later, Jason had lost thirty of the fifty dollars he'd set aside for use in the casino, Tim had lost $200 dollars betting on craps, and Riley kept taunting Tim with the fact she'd won $2,500 at the blackjack tables.

"Ya know what, Riley?" Tim growled, after Jason's sister had teased him about her winning for what seemed like the thousandth time, "I'm gonna dip into my savings and buy me one of those fancy batons the drum majors in parades use. They sell 'em at a store I saw on the drive to the hotel. Then the next time you say 'I won and you crapped out' I'm gonna jam that baton up your tight little asshole repeatedly, until you actually start to like it. So if you don't want that to happen, STOP FUCKING WITH ME! Comprendé?"

Tim turned to Jason, who was about to leave the casino.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa...where're you goin'?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "I only have twenty dollars left, and I seriously doubt I'm gonna win anything, so I think I'll quit while I'm ahead."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Aw, c'mon...one more time, ok? Just one last slot and then you can leave."

Jason rolled his eyes, put a quarter into the machine, and pulled the lever. The miracle happened: he hit the jackpot. The _$30 million-dollar_ jackpot.

The machine went crazy, and sirens started going off. Confetti burst from the ceiling, and '$30,000,000!!!' flashed on the massive screen on the wall of the casino.

Riley screamed, Tim let out a war whoop that would've normally made him look like a nutcase, and Jason simply gawked at the machine. He dazedly shook hands with the casino manager, who handed him the huge cardboard check, along with key cards to the hotel's Presidential Suite and passes to the V.I.P. lounge in the hotel's nightclub.

"You did it! You hit the big time!" Tim kept screaming over and over in between bouts of maniacal laughter.

Jason leaned over and yelled to be heard over the commotion. "You're the one who convinced me to play one last quarter...I'm giving you a million dollars."

His best friend whooped for joy. "I could kiss you, but I won't."

No sooner had the casino officials left than quite a few beautiful women came over to the trio.

"Hi, I'm Kylie," a tall, porcelain-skinned redhead introduced herself. "Are you by any chance married?"

"Yes, actually, I am...my wife's just upstairs at the moment," Jason replied smoothly. This caused most of the women to walk away in disappointment.

"I'm single! I'm his best friend!" Tim announced to the ones that remained. "I'm also a lawyer!"

A pair of gorgeous blonde twins turned to Tim and gave him come-hither smiles. "Did you just say you were a lawyer?"

Riley smirked at the scene. "Wow, Tim, maybe your luck's changing for the better...I mean, now that your rash is cured and all."

The blonde twins gave Tim a grossed-out look and hurried away. Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing as Riley gave a shit-eating grin to the look of death Tim was sending her way.

But then Providence intervened on Tim's behalf.

"Excuse me, Miss," a man's voice interrupted from behind Riley, who turned and flashed the guy a seductive smile. "But could I possibly convince you to have a drink with me?"

Before Riley could reply, Tim spoke up.

"You're wasting your time, buddy...she's a lesbian."

"Oh...sorry about that," the guy replied, before walking off. Riley whirled to face Tim, her green eyes spitting fire. Jason was red-faced from holding in laughter, while Tim merely gave her a smug smile.

"How now, brown cow?" he asked her.

"You're dead, Tim...you hear me?" Riley snarled. "You're FUCKING DEAD!"

She launched herself at Tim, who took off running, even as Jason lost his battle to keep from laughing and collapsed to the floor in a fit of hysterics.


End file.
